I sat on the floor against the wall, my legs drawn to my chest. I hadn't slept that night; my mind was just too full of thoughts to rest. I spent most of the night tossing and turning in bed, but I gave up on trying to sleep at around four.
It was a little after seven when I heard footsteps outside my door. They were heavy, as if weighed down by some force, but they made an effort to suppress their noise. I crawled away from the wall and reached for the door, opening it as quietly as I could. I had only opened it enough to fit my head through, but I could still hear—not that there was anything to hear.
The footsteps traveled downstairs and headed toward the kitchen. The fridge opened, and a few seconds later I heard someone taking a bite out of an apple.
I sighed, suddenly finding myself shaking. This was it. Today was the day.
I opened the door a little wider and slipped out. I walked silently down the hallway and stairs. When I reached the bott